


Festival of the Guildpact

by Mertiya



Series: Odds//Ends [13]
Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Action/Adventure, Fluff and Angst, Jace is a punching bag as usual, M/M, Snark, Thunder and Lightning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 15:29:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/Mertiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day of the festival finally dawns, bright and clear--but it isn't going to stay that way.  The Gateless are not pleased at the new Guildpact's ascension, and they will do anything to remove him.  They may be reckoning without his lover, however...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Festival of the Guildpact

The sun was shining brightly on the day of the festival, which, despite several hours-long meetings to determine whether to change the date, was being celebrated on the same day of the year as it had every year previous.  There was already a parade making its careless way down the streets of the Tenth District, which were lined with everything from Gruul celebrants and Rakdos revelers to Azorius arresters and Boros enforcers.  Several of the latter had already nearly come to blows over a matter of possibly-expired permits.

            The parade itself contained members from all ten guilds.  Even the Rakdos were on their best behavior today, at least in the main street.  There might be fighting, rioting, and lewd behavior in some of the less central thoroughfares, but here under the public eye, people primarily concerned themselves with performance, under the watchful eye of the Azorius.

            In the center of the procession was a highly-decorated wagon containing a lone figure in blue.  The Living Guildpact was resplendent in sparkling, azure robes, the hood of his distinctive cloak flung back to reveal carefully combed dark hair and a boyish face.

            The participants in the parade shifted and tumbled around the Guildpact’s wagon, which acted as an unchanging eye in the middle of a turbulent storm, steadily progressing down the street until it reached the nine insignia-covered columns surrounding the central stone platform of the Forum of Azor. The wagon stopped in front of the steps that led to the top of the surrounding, lower platform, and the Guildpact, flanked by the ten well-known figures of the maze runners—who were busily shooting each other dirty looks—slowly mounted the steps.

            After reaching the top, he raised his arms theatrically, and a whirling column of wind, outlined in sparkling blue runes, rose up around him, slowly carrying him up to the high platform in the center of the forum.  “Citizens of Ravnica,” he said, his voice booming out artificially loud and resonant.  “Welcome to the Festival of the Guildpact.  I will just say a few words of welcome before—”

            The flurry of crossbow bolts appeared seemingly from nowhere. There was the sudden, dull thud of arrow hitting flesh, gruesomely amplified by the same spell that had made his voice audible across the whole area.

            The Living Guildpact clutched at the arrow that had suddenly appeared in his throat, staggered backwards, and fell from the platform.

~

            Ral Zarek stared as the pathetic, blue-clad figure tumbled from the top of the forum.  All the power and majesty had suddenly disappeared until there was nothing but a bundle of blue cloth falling through the air.  Just—gone.

            He could feel himself drawing mana, which was interesting, because he didn’t remember deciding to cast a spell.  There was a great deal of it around the forum.  Ten overflowing fonts: nine pillars above the ground, and one below.  He seemed to be specifically tapping the flow from the Izzet, Boros, Rakdos, and Gruul structures. He could feel the world turning red around him, could feel passion and fury and chaos suffuse his body, but it all felt distant. He was drowning in it, but he could not even taste it.  It arced and crackled between his fingers, but he felt nothing.

            Then, it all broke loose.

~

            Lavinia stared in horror as Jace’s body disappeared into the crowd below, but she recovered in mere seconds.  “You—and you—come with me,” she snapped, pointing to two members of her squad. The rest of you, funnel the crowd out of here immediately.  We need to catch his attackers.”

            As Lavinia and her chosen companions began to forge their way through the crowd, she noticed that it was growing darker.  Glancing upward instantly told her why—a huge mass of roiling, black storm clouds had begun to gather over the Forum of Azor. Lavinia shouted an obscenity and began to run back toward the other maze runners, waving her hands to the other Azorius to continue what they were doing.  “Get off the steps!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

            She barreled past Teysa Karlov, who had taken one look at the sky and presumably called in a few favors to get Tajic to carry her away at top speed, then grabbed the arm of Vorel and shoved him, sprawling, to the ground in front of the steps, hoping he would take the hint and keep moving. Mounting the stairs three at a time, she made it to the top, waving her arms frantically to disperse the other Maze-runners.  “Ral!” she shouted.  “Stop it!”

            The Izzet maze runner rotated slowly in her direction at the noise. His feet were already dangling several feet off the ground, currents of air buoying up his hair and clothing. Lightning sizzled across his body from hand to hand, but his eyes, instead of reflecting the storm, were frighteningly blank.  Slowly, he finished raising one arm to point to the sky. 

            Lavinia felt the hair rise on the back of her neck, and she flung herself to the ground, the impact jarring her hands and knees. Then, all hell broke loose.

~

            Jace, clenching his teeth against the pain of the arrow in his side, had nearly managed to lower himself to the ground before the lightning struck. He was on the other side of the platform, but the crash of thunder that vibrated through him was loud enough to hurt.  He lost control of his magic and plummeted like a rock.  His back hit the ground, followed by his head, and colored spots swirled at the edge of his vision and then eclipsed it.

            When he managed to blink his watering eyes open, he had a long, confused moment of wondering how long he had been lying there.  He stared up into a purple sky, crackling with lightning, and he realized his face was wet and his cloak was soaked through. The hands clenched at his side were covered in something sticky that he could only futilely hope wasn’t his blood.  Trembling with pain, he began to pull himself upright. He made it to a propped position against the stone behind him before his muscles started refusing to do their job, and he had to lie back and try to breathe.

            “Damn,” he muttered under his breath.  Then, “Why does it always have to be arrows?”

            He needed help.  Jace reached out blindly with his mind, trying to find someone nearby, preferably one of the maze runners. They shouldn’t have been far away, and he still had a slight connection to them from the forging of the Guildpact. His scrabbling mind brushed against one or two others, long enough to whisper, _I need help_ , but not long enough to establish proper contact.

            Lavinia had been right to be cautious, Jace thought dimly.  If he hadn’t had half a mind on the crowd, he would never have felt the flare of murderous intent, would never have been able to get himself even marginally out of the line of fire.  He still wasn’t sure how he’d kept up the illusion of his own corpse while simultaneously floating himself down from the platform, but he was in no hurry for anyone to try to kill him again.  Of course, he hadn’t counted on losing consciousness for an unknown period of time in there.

            One of the minds he had brushed against was coming closer. Almost any of the maze runners would do, he thought.  Ral would be best, but he knew it wasn’t Ral.  Glancing up at the sky, he sighed.  He was definitely going to have to get in contact with the lightning mage next.  But as long as it wasn’t—

            A pair of white teeth flashed in the semi-darkness, and Jace heard his heartbeat increase by a factor of about ten.  “Oh no,” he moaned in spite of himself.  “Not vampires.  Not _again_.”

            “Why, Guildpact,” said the Dimir maze runner pleasantly.  “You don’t sound pleased to see me, even though I was just answering your summons.”  Jace tried to wriggle away backwards, but his arms promptly gave out again, and he collapsed.  Mirko Vosk grinned his wide, white grin, and bent over him.  “You don’t look as if you have much blood left,” he went on, placing his hands on Jace’s shoulders.  Feebly, Jace tried to push him away, but neither his mind nor his body was effectual against Vosk’s assault.  “But, then, you don’t seem to have much strength left either, so tasting your mind shouldn’t require too much blood, anyway.”  He ran his tongue over his fangs with anticipation. As a final, last-ditch effort, Jace tried to reach for the Eternities, but he didn’t have the strength. Vosk bent over him, gently caressing the Guildpact’s throat with his tongue.

            “Now, now, honey, is that any way to treat the Guildpact?”  The other mind Jace had briefly touched had arrived as well. Mirko Vosk managed to turn halfway before he was dragged backwards by a hand in a red leather gauntlet and thrown to the ground.  He tried to rise, and a searing blast of fire took most of the skin off of his face, driving him further back into the ground.  Jace stared in consternation at his rescuer, who was leaning lazily on her not-particularly-ceremonial-looking spiked sword.

            “E-E-Exava,” he stammered and tried to pull himself backward again. Had she decided not to let Vosk kill him because she wanted to kill him herself?  The last time he had seen her she had made it pretty evident she knew that he was the one who had rescued Ral from the Rough Crowd.

            “Happy Festival of the You, Guildpact,” Exava said, blowing him a kiss. She turned back to the vampire, but in the two seconds of their exchange, Vosk had prudently vanished. Exava sighed in theatrical disappointment, tossing her long hair back, and then approached Jace. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on killing you today,” she said.  “What kind of show would that be?”

            “Then what—” Jace wheezed as she knelt beside him.

            “That looks bad,” she interrupted, pointing to the arrow protruding from his side.

            “It is an arrow sticking out of my side, yes,” Jace responded acerbically. “That isn’t usually a good thi—” he broke off and screamed instead as Exava bent forward and aimed a haphazard blast of flames at the injury in his side.  Colored spots swirled in front of his eyes yet again.

            When he could see again, Exava had hoisted him up and slung him across her shoulders.  Part of his burned flesh was pressed into her ear, which was agonizing.  Jace gave a soft little whimper.  “What was that for?” he managed to get out.

            “You’re not supposed to yank the arrow out, right?  That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.  I didn’t want you to just bleed to death in the street. There wouldn’t be any—poetry.”

            “ _You seared the wound shut around the arrow_ ,” snapped Jace.

            “Right! And now you’re not bleeding.”

            “I am in pain!  I am in _agony_!”

            She shushed him.  “You’re alive.”

            “Not for much longer,” Jace muttered, staring around at the growing wind and lashing rain.  “Krokt. Exava, I need you to get me to Ral before he accidentally kills us.”  A sudden rumble of thunder punctuated his thought, and he looked up in time to see lightning strike three buildings in rapid succession. Two of them burst into flame, despite the heavy wind and rain.  “Correction,” Jace said.  “I need you to get me to Ral before he destroys the entire Tenth District.”

            “Why?” Exava asked cheerfully.

            Jace nearly said, _The Tenth District wouldn’t be destroyed_ , and then remembered who he was talking to. “Well, then you won’t be able to destroy it yourself,” he said, in what he hoped was a tempting voice.

            “Hmmm,” Exava said, in what Jace hoped was a tempted voice.  “So what’s your plan?  You’re the one who always has a plan, right?”

            “What?” Jace asked.

            “To make Zarek stop.  Are you going to fuck him?”

            “What?” Jace sputtered.  “No! I was just going to—to talk to him!”

            Exava came to a stop on a street corner. “I’ll get you there if you fuck him,” she offered. 

            “You’ve already seen us have sex!” Jace burst out, which he hadn’t meant to say, and then groaned at the reignited pain in his side.

            “Well, no, I’ve seen someone who looked like one of my people with his cock up Zarek’s ass,” teased Exava.  “It’s not really the same thing.  So, you going to fuck him?”

            “I have an _arrow_ sticking out of my _side_ ,” Jace said acidly.

            “Point, I guess,” Exava said.  “Okay, I’ll be reasonable.”  Jace bit down on his initial response.  “If you promise to let me watch you two next time, I’ll get you to him.”

            Jace opened his mouth and closed it again, then shut his eyes. His options were severely limited at this point.  Technically, pointed out the Ral-iest part of his brain, it wasn’t as if she _hadn’t_ seen it before.  A slightly more reasonable part of his brain pointed out that verbal contracts were notoriously nonbinding and “coercion” was the number-one reason that _any_ contract could be overturned. The part of his brain that had paid the most attention to documentation from the Orzhov was quick to point out that _any_ was a strong word under the circumstances, but the rest of his brain had already reached a consensus. “Fine,” he said. “Contingent on my surviving.”

            Exava heaved a sigh.  “A zombie Guildpact wouldn’t really be the same anyway,” she said meditatively. “Oh, by the way,” she said, continuing to splash her way through a series of rapidly-growing puddles in the general direction of what looked to be the center of the storm. “Good show earlier, but why bother making it look like you were dead?”

            “So that no one else would try to kill me,” snarled Jace.  “People stop trying to kill you when they think you’re dead!”

            “Maybe boring people,” Exava agreed in an affable tone of voice. Jace groaned and decided to stop talking.

~

            Lavinia could hear a hollow, ringing noise that sounded like a tinny, distant bell. She opened her eyes slowly, licking her lips and wondering why they tasted of copper.  Her vision was oddly blurry, and she wondered why the rain falling on her face made no sound, why the people running in the mud around her had footfalls that seemed to touch the ground noiselessly.

            A face appeared in her line of sight, concerned and extremely wet. Emmara’s mouth was moving, but no sound was coming out.  Lavinia stared at her in confusion.  “What?” she tried to say, but she couldn’t hear herself speaking either. Emmara gestured to her and held out a hand to help her up, then pointed in exasperation.

            Lavinia took the hand and let Emmara help her to her feet, following her pointing finger.  As she tried to clear the rain out of her eyes, she felt as if she were looking through a children’s storybook, the kind made up of squashed-together colorful dots you were supposed to find a picture in.  The scene was made more difficult to parse because of the subtraction of sound from the equation.

            Three large Selesnyan elementals surrounded a human-shaped figure covered in lightning, clearly trying to hem him in.  As Lavinia watched, a bolt of lightning careened down from the sky, striking one of the elementals in a shower of sparks.  It staggered backwards, beginning to fall apart, but still striving to stay upright.  Its legs were splintered and flames played across it.

            Emmara waved her hand in front of Lavinia’s face to get her attention, and the lawmage turned back to look at her.  The Selesnyan elf gestured to both of them and then to the figure that was obviously Zarek’s.  Lavinia put her hand to her forehead in a gesture of frustration, but it came away sticky with blood.  “I’ll go try to find Jace,” she said, or tried to say.  When Emmara winced, she realized that she must have spoken more loudly than she’d intended.  “If I can find him—if he’s—” she paused.  “—I’ll bring him to Zarek.  I’ll get him there. You try to keep the crowd safe until I get back.”

            She didn’t think too hard about what would happen if she couldn’t find a live Jace to bring back.  There would be time for worry later.  There would be time to grieve, if she had to.  Wiping the blood off of her face as best she could, she set off toward the central platform, hoping Emmara had nothing else she had planned to say, because she still couldn’t hear anything over the tremendous ringing in her ears.

            It was not easy going.  Despite the lightning, which struck randomly and sporadically, and the high winds and rain, the crowd had not yet dispersed and was instead milling around somewhat aimlessly. Trying to move through them got Lavinia very slowly crushed and not much else.  Grimly, she reached into her cloak, trying to find a useful scroll. Unfortunately, several of them crumbled to ash as soon as she had placed her hands on them, and she was tired enough not to want to use direct magic if she could avoid it.

            Finally, however, she laid her hands on a writ of passage.  Less flashy than some, but then—Lavinia grimaced—there had probably been enough flashiness done around here for the time being. She was able to prime the scroll clumsily with a few sparks of mana, and the crowd parted before her. Not much, not quickly, but enough for her to make her way through.

            When she reached the base of the platform, where he should have fallen, the crowd was a little thinner, but there was no sign of Jace.  There were a few scattered crossbow bolts, several drops of blood, and a smear of ash.  A pair of footprints paused near the blood, and there was a little trail of scratch-marks, as if someone dragging a long blade had walked away. Lavinia sighed, knelt, and expended more energy she didn’t have on a tracking spell on the blood, hoping she wasn’t just following some random Rakdos reveler.  “Jace,” she whispered, inaudible to herself and hopefully the rest of the crowd.  “Please be all right.”

~

            “No,” Jace objected weakly.  “You can’t just kill everyone between us and Ral.”

            “Why not?”

            Jace opened his mouth and realized that ‘you just can’t’ probably wouldn’t do much good against a rampaging blood witch.  “Because…it…wouldn’t be much of a challenge?” he hazarded finally. “I mean, they’re just a bunch of…random people.  What kind of a show would that be?  Just some blood and guts, and probably no one would even notice because of the storm.”

            She cackled.  “Now you’re getting it.”  She began shoving her way through the crowd, knocking people left and right.  Jace decided against protesting any further. At least this wasn’t deadly. And they were definitely moving in the right direction.  The rapidly-increasing bolts of lightning and heavy winds made that very clear. Jace focused on not fainting again due to the pain—which he’d already done for a third time about five minutes ago.

            They had been moving roughly through the thick crowd for another few minutes, when Jace heard a shout.  “The Guildpact!  He’s alive!”

            _Is this going to be a good thing?_ he wondered vaguely.

            “Kill him!”

            _I thought not._

            At least it was only about—he glanced around—five people trying to forge their way toward Exava and him.  Surely Exava could manage five people. 

            “Can I kill _them_?” Exava asked, a little too eagerly.

            “Have you ever heard of the concept of questioning someone?” Jace snapped irritably, though he had to admit, yet another bunch of people trying to kill him felt like far fairer game.  Through the pounding headache, he tried to reach into the minds of the five enemies surrounding them.

            “That’s what necromancers are for.  You rather I let you die?”

            “No!” Jace said firmly.  “No, under those circumstances, you can kill them.”  Part of him felt bad for saying that, but most of him was just entirely done with this entire day.

            “You’d better be planning on an excellent performance with Zarek,” Exava said. “I’m only doing this on credit because the orgasm last time was great.”

            _I did not need that mental image_ , Jace thought to himself in despair, before trying to turn his attention back to their attackers.  He couldn’t get very far in, but he did manage to grasp at a few images and concepts. It was definitely the Gateless. He wasn’t certain how in-depth their plan was, but either way, it probably spelled bad news for him and possibly for a lot of actual guild members as well.  With a sigh, Jace wondered if any of them would remember that he was, in fact, not a member of any of the guilds.  It hadn’t been that kind of day, though.

            As the first of the Gateless reached Exava, she pivoted in place, hitting three of the crowd with the flat of her blade, and her attacker with Jace’s feet. Jace yelped and tried to curl into a smaller target.  Nausea and pain swirled sickeningly in his stomach and his side.

            Exava kicked the next attacker in the face, snapping his head back. Blood spurted from his nose as he collapsed, and she ground her heel into his face.  Jace decided not to say anything about excessive violence, for fear of receiving some more excessive violence in his face. The last three of the Gateless, seeing what had happened to their companions, hung back in the crowd, and one of them raised a crossbow.

            “Well, fuck,” Exava said succinctly.  “Cheaters,” she muttered as she tried to bulrush her way toward them.  Jace reached out with his mind, but he failed to find a hold, to find anything, even in the crowd nearby.  His head was aching too badly by now, and all he could do was stare at the end of the crossbow as it quivered and the attacker’s finger moved on the trigger.

            Before he could pull it, shining, blue-white spheres encircled all three of them, and Jace breathed an explosive sigh of relief.  Lavinia, her face covered in blood and dirt, her hood torn in three places, and smoke gently wafting up from her hair, pushed her way between the detention spheres.  “All five of you are under arrest for conspiracy to assassinate the Living Guildpact,” she said.  “Don’t bother to say anything, because I won’t be able to hear you anyway.”

            She walked over and stopped in front of Exava.  “Exava,” she said, with a nod.  “Thank you for caring for the Living Guildpact. A formal notice of thanks will be sent to the Rakdos within the next three days.  I will take him from here.”

            “No skin off my nose, honey,” Exava said.  “I’m coming with you, though.  I need to make sure the Guildpact doesn’t die before he comes through on our agreement.”

            Lavinia rolled her eyes and tapped her ear.  “I just said I can’t hear anything.”

            Jace barely managed to reach into her mind with the last of his strength. _She says she doesn’t want me to die before I perform on our agreement. I need to talk to you about how binding verbal agreements made under duress are.  At some later date.  Right now, I’d really like it if you got me to Ral._

            Lavinia nodded and held out her arms.  “I won’t let him die,” she said.  “And if, as I suspect, you’re intimating that you want to accompany us—” she smiled grimly.  “—be my guest. It would be my pleasure to see you have an encounter with Guildmage Zarek.”

            Exava unslung Jace from around her shoulders and passed him to Lavinia. Jace, who felt rather like a useless sack of flour, vaguely tried to help, but as every motion was agonizing, he soon gave up.  Lavinia, who was staggering slightly herself, somehow managed to hold him up. After a moment, she hoisted him up over her shoulders as well, turning her head to the side to brush her lips across his cheek and murmur briefly in his ear, “Thank you for not being dead.”

            With both Exava and Lavinia, it was easier to make their way through the crowd toward the center of the storm.  Some people were trying to run by now, while others were throwing themselves flat or trying to get to shelter behind the pillars. The Orzhov pillar was blackened with ash, and the Gruul pillar had actually broken in two, its top half leaning haphazardly against its bottom.  If they didn’t stop this soon, the Firemind himself might show up, and Jace didn’t particularly relish the thought of sleeping with a half-eaten, charred corpse. He tried desperately to find the energy to reach out with his mind, but he was exhausted, and he was forced to cling to Lavinia and hope.

            As they approached the steps in front of the Forum of Azor, he caught sight of Ral.  The lightning mage’s arms were raised above his head, and bolt after bolt of lightning crackled down in a haphazard ring around him, forming a cage of electricity at the center of the roaring winds.  Jace drew a deep, ragged breath and shouted, “RAL!”

            No response.  Of course there was no response.  Lavinia kept walking until the winds became so violent that she had to stop or be knocked off her feet.  _Put me down_ , Jace managed to get into her head, and she nodded and helped him down off her shoulders.  His feet touched the ground, and then the wind caught him. He could barely walk. There was no way he could possibly get to Ral like this.

            He shut his eyes for a moment, letting the rain wash over his face, and then reached out for Lavinia.  There was no time to ask, and he didn’t like to do this, but he really didn’t have many alternatives.  He took a deep breath, grasped her hand, and drew mana directly from her.

            She didn’t have much blue mana remaining, but there was enough—just enough. Jace summoned the last of his strength to project an illusion of his own head in midair. “Ral,” his giant head boomed. “If this is all because you think I’m dead, I’m not.  But I’m _going_ to be if you don’t stop it right now.”

            After a moment that stretched on for days, the wind and lightning stopped suddenly. Jace winced as a number of small pebbles fell onto his head, but looked up to see Ral squinting at his illusion.

            “How do I know it’s actually you?” the lightning mage asked suspiciously.

            Jace groaned and winced, his phantasmal visage flickering.  “Just—just come down the damn steps, will you?” he said.  “It would be nice to get medical attention from someone who isn’t Exava.”

            Ral touched down and began to make his way toward the steps. “Medical attention? From Exava?  You know, Guildpact, you’ve made some poor life decisions, but—”

            “I didn’t decide anything.  Just—just come here, will you?”  The image blurred and dissipated with the last of Lavinia’s mana, and Jace slumped to the ground.  Lavinia caught him before he hit the cobblestones and gently lowered him the rest of the way. Ral came shakily down the steps and nearly tripped over him, but caught himself and squatted beside the mind mage.

            Jace waited for the inevitable smart remark, but it didn’t come, and he realized after a moment how strangely quiet it was in the absence of the storm. Then Ral leaned forward, tracing his hand lightly along Jace’s arm before taking his hand.  The Izzet mage threaded their fingers together before kissing Jace fiercely.  His other hand brushed delicately across Jace’s uninjured throat, searching fearfully for a wound that wasn’t there.  “Dammit, Jace,” Ral breathed suddenly, resting his forehead against the mind mage’s.  “Dammit.”

            Jace, whose hold on consciousness was starting to fade, whispered, “Sorry. Could you get Emmara now, please?”

            Everything had become very remote and far away, the pain in his side, the pain in his head—even his lungs struggling.  Everything that had been momentous just seconds before was now utterly unimportant, except for the hand in his and the warmth of Lavinia’s body pressed into his back.  As the world retreated, he had one last stab of panic at the thought of how Ral would react if he actually died now, but it was almost as far away as everything else, and then the darkness around him moved in and swallowed him entirely.

~

            “Ral, he’s fine.  He’s _fine._   Stop that.”

            The words were enough to drag Jace back to consciousness.  “Don’t do anything stupid,” he said weakly, without even bothering to open his eyes.

            “Guildpact, that’s like telling me not to breathe,” came the instant response, but Ral’s voice was shakier than usual.  “Besides, you’re the one who let your heart stop.  That’s stupid.  You’re stupid.”

            “I did?” Jace asked.  He blinked his eyes slowly.  Everything was very wet and very blurry.  He turned his head to the side and managed to make out a pair of knees beside him, clad in a white dress.  “Emmara?” he said slowly.

            “You are not imminently in danger of dying anymore,” she said. “We’d better get you somewhere safe, though,” she paused and looked pointedly at Ral, “now that somebody is no longer sending random sparks in all directions.  You and Lavinia are both going to need more healing and a great deal of rest.  I’ll get the elementals to carry you to my house.  You,” she said to Ral, “can walk.”

            “No,” said Ral stubbornly.

            “Ral…” Jace sighed.  Ral’s hand tightened on his, and he suddenly realized why the Izzet guildmage was refusing to walk.  “I mean, um, Emmara, I’d really appreciate it if you let him ride with me.  Just this once.  Even though he doesn’t deserve it.”

            Emmara sniffed, but it was an acquiescent sniff.

            Jace slid hazily in and out of consciousness as they traveled. He hoped vaguely that someone would deal with the ramifications of the day’s events, and hoped much more firmly that it wouldn’t have to be him.  Ral refused to let go of his hand, and Jace was grateful enough to be able to lean against his lover’s shoulder and drowse in the relative safety of an elemental’s arms.

~

            “You know, I would like to be able to reach that glass of water—”

            “No.”

            “Ral, seriously, if you’d just let go for—”

            “No.”

            “Ral—”

            “No.”

            Jace sighed and fell back into the soft bed.  Ral, who had been hanging onto his arm, instantly wrapped both arms and legs around his torso and legs.  Jace let out a yelp.  “That’s still healing!  Be careful!”

            The lightning mage did not respond, though his death-grip loosened a little. “I will get you the glass of water, Guildpact,” he said after a few minutes.

            “Or _I_ could get it,” muttered Jace, but he lay back and let Ral get out of bed and go over to the bedside table. This was a more involved process than one might think, primarily because Ral refused to let go of his hand, and was therefore tethered to a not-very-large semicircular area around the bed. The result was that half the water ended up on the bedsheets instead of in Jace’s mouth.

            “You make a terrible nursemaid,” Jace said, handing the glass back to Ral, and watching him perform the same dance back around the bed.

            “I am not a nursemaid,” Ral said stiffly.  “I am, if anything, a doctor.  A man of science.”

            “And, right now, you’re a scientist who won’t let go of me.”

            “That’s like science.”  Jace sighed and lay back down again.  Ral burrowed his nose into the back of Jace’s neck.  “You’re hurt, and you’re not going anywhere.”

            “You know, you nearly killed me.”

            “Details,” said Ral, but he still sounded a little shaky.

            “The Firemind wants to eat you.  I got a note by way of Lavinia’s temporary replacement.  The handwriting isn’t very good, but there was something in it about terrible public relations.” 

            Ral drew himself up, which really meant he simply drew himself more tightly around Jace.  “I was…trying to protect law and order in the city.  Rout the assassins.  Clearly.”

            Jace gave him a side-eye.  “You really can’t go around destroying the city just because you think I’m dead. At least wait to make sure.” Ral did not respond to this, merely nuzzling into Jace’s neck and kissing him along the line of his jaw, very gently.  Jace growled low in his throat, but didn’t move away.  “I’ll deal with it,” he said finally.  “You’re still getting your funding cut.”

            “I would expect nothing less from the entirely ethical and thoroughly non-partisan Guildpact.”

            “And there may be other repercussions.”

            “Doesn’t matter,” Ral breathed softly in his ear.  “Don’t care.”

            Jace rolled over.  “Are—are you being sentimental?” he asked.

            “ ‘Sentimental’ is a strong word.  I’m being…slightly fond.”

            The mind mage leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. “I could get used to it. Although I know you’re not going to let me.”

            “Damn straight,” muttered Ral, but he let Jace kiss him, then began to gently stroke the Guildpact’s hair, fingers combing through it in a way Jace could only describe as ‘heavenly’.

            “I should almost die more often,” Jace murmured.  “This is amazing.”

            Ral’s fingers got caught in a snarl, and Jace yelped.  “Don’t you dare,” the Izzet guildmage said. His hands dropped onto Jace’s shoulders and began to move across the mind mage’s back, until Jace finally snuggled backward into his embrace.

            “Just hold me,” he murmured, and Ral went oddly still, and then did as he was asked. Jace smiled drowsily as he drifted off toward sleep again.

~

            When he woke up, Lavinia was bending over him.  “How are you feeling?” she asked, her words slightly slurred.

            “Better. Thank you.”  Jace paused as Lavinia tapped her ear. _Um, better.  Ears not healed yet?_

“Emmara says it will take a few more days. I can sort of hear, but everything is very muddy.”  She smiled at him. 

            _And you’re—you’re all right?_

            He hadn’t seen her conscious since the steps at the Forum of Azor.

            “Yes, Jace,” she said.  She stooped and kissed his cheek, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You made the correct decision. Otherwise I think we might both have died.” She glanced to the side and grinned faintly.  “And Ral would probably have been eaten by a dragon.”

            Jace gave a rueful, acquiescent laugh, nodding down at the Izzet mage, who was curled around him, fast asleep. _Adorable, isn’t he?_

            “Yes, he is rather adorable like that.”

            “Not adorable,” Ral murmured instantly.  Jace looked down curiously, and pushed a gentle tendril into the forefront of the other’s mind to confirm his suspicions.

            _He’s asleep,_ he said to Lavinia, who snickered.  _That’s apparently entirely instinctual at this point._

            “You should go back to sleep as well.  You need your rest.  I just came in to check on you.”

            _I will.  You, too.  Emmara’s magic can only do so much._

            The elf, who was stretched rather thin in the aftermath of Ral’s tantrum, had been checking in periodically to make sure that Jace was healing well. So far, he seemed to be. Jace reached out a hand and took Lavinia’s, pulling her down to the side of the bed.  Then he kissed her on the cheek.  _Thanks_ , he thought sleepily.

            “Of course, Guildpact.”  She smiled, and he watched her leave the room, before sinking back into the pillow and snuggling against Ral.  Just for a little while, he wouldn’t worry about anything, he decided vaguely. Just for a little while.

~

            Emmara finished looking Jace up and down and nodded briskly.  “Don’t overtire yourself,” she said. “Try not to work too hard. And, yes, you’re well enough that you two can go back to having intercourse whenever you’d like.” Jace sputtered. Ral raised an eyebrow. “What?” said Emmara, with a faint smile.  “You were both thinking it.  You—” looking at Jace, “—were too embarrassed to ask, and you—” looking at Ral, “were too guilty.”

            “I’m never guilty,” Ral protested instantly.

            “Ral, you still haven’t let go of my hand,” Jace pointed out mildly.

            “It’s a very nice hand.  Delicate. Childlike.”

            Jace gave vent to a wordless growl, and Emmara smiled.  “You do have very nice hands, Jace.”

~

            It was a week before Jace was capable of returning to his office, and he still hadn’t convinced Ral that they didn’t need to be in the same room all the time. As Jace had predicted, Ral’s funding was slashed—though Niv-Mizzet was fortunately willing to give up having his guildmage for lunch when Jace promised to consider certain Izzet propositions. Ral, surprisingly, complained a great deal less than Jace had expected, which was a welcome relief. Lavinia was back to her duties far more quickly than Jace, though her hearing was still likely to be a little poor for another month.  “Growing entirely new ear drums is a new experience for me,” Emmara had said, and Ral had hidden behind Jace—though still refused to let go of his hand—at the glares that came his way.

            Jace sighed as he sat down at his desk.  There was still far too much to do, in terms of cleaning up after the festival—and reorganizing it for the new date, which the Azorius had finally decided to do, with somewhat heightened security.  Several of the would-be assassins had been taken into custody, but there were likely to be more still on the streets. Jace had had to use all of his wiles to convince Ral not to put lightning traps on all his windows and his door, since, practically speaking, the people most likely to be electrocuted would be the guards, Lavinia, and himself.  At least, he reflected, Ral was trying to make everything up to him, even if he was doing it in the most Ral-ish way possible.  This, of course, meant that Jace spent half his working hours either on his desk, on his bed, or trying to convince Ral that he really, really needed to get actual work done, the last of which usually bought him about half an hour’s respite from the Izzet mage’s attentions.

            Right now, his lover was sprawled on the couch that Lavinia had finally convinced Jace his office needed, staring at the ceiling and occasionally kicking his feet into the air.  Jace glanced over and hid a smile.  Any minute now he was going to have to start fending the other man off. Not that he particularly minded.

            Someone knocked on the door.  With a soft sigh, Jace got to his feet, wincing slightly—his side was still rather stiff—and headed over to open it.  He opened the door just long enough to get the impression of red and black cloth, a sensual and scarred body, and a wicked and hungry grin. Immediately, he slammed the door in Exava’s face, locking and bolting it and falling back against it.

            “What?” said Ral, looking up with interest.

            “Nothing,” said Jace.  “Paperwork.” Behind him, the pounding resumed with greater intensity.


End file.
